A Change in the Wind
by Harleygwyn
Summary: Many years after the war, Private Helga Geerhart and Lieutenant Hubert Gruber are revealed to have married and raised 6 children together... but how did this come to be? What about their affections for Herr Flick and Rene Artois? Read on, and all will be revealed! DISCLAIMER; I do not own the original 'Allo 'Allo! storyline or any of the characters.
1. Chapter 1

**A Change in the Wind**

Chapter 1

It was a warm, sunny day in the small picturesque town of Nouvion. The town square was alive with the townsfolk enjoying the rare early autumn weather; couples walked arm-in-arm by the fountain, children were playing tag amongst the market stalls and various cafes situated around the square, where several citizens were scattered among the outdoor tables, enjoying a late afternoon drink and chatting about the various affairs of the day.

The town favourite, the Café Rene, was unusually quiet for this time of day. The reason for this was such; one of the town's occupying German Officers had chosen to make the most of the glorious day, and instead of taking up his usual table inside the café, had decided to enjoy his usual cognac at the café's prized outdoor table with the grandest view of the square.

Lieutenant Gruber's presence was an uneasy one for the villagers. Whilst he was generally regarded to be the most agreeable and harmless of all the German Officers, the fact remained that he was still working underneath the instruction of the Fuhrer; and so had the power to take anyone prisoner at will, or to have any peasant shot at the snap of his fingers. It was no surprise that the Café Rene was the least favourable place to seek refreshment or company on this particular afternoon.

Not that Lieutenant Gruber posed any more of a threat today than any other day; he had far more pressing matters on his mind…

"Lieutenant!" exclaimed a soft, French accent, arousing Gruber from his thoughts. "How good to see you! Although I might ask, what has prompted you to move from your window table inside? We save that one especially for you and the Colonel, you know; you need only ask…"

"Ah, Rene," Gruber responded softly. "I must apologise, my mind has been absent for quite some time… I see I must be dwindling your business today – I will remove myself at once. My sincerest apologies…"

Gruber's manner stopped Rene dead in his tracks. This wasn't the forward, borderline flirtatious man he knew. There must be something wrong for him to be so quiet, and so alone. Rene sighed as he made his decision; business may not be good today, but a cut in takings was better than being discovered by another German Officer to be ejecting Gruber from his seat – and it was definitely better than facing the firing squad.

"Never you mind, Lieutenant. I see you are preoccupied today – allow me to bring you another cognac, on the house. Feel free to stay as long as you would like."

Gruber exhaled. "Why, thank you Rene. You are most kind." Rene nodded his acknowledgement as he removed the Lieutenant's empty glass from the table and retreated back inside the café.

The Lieutenant looked back out across the square, mind still deep in thought, barely disturbed by the brief interaction. The morning's meeting had not gone well, to say the least; far too many of the items on the agenda had concerned himself and the Colonel and their various mistakes, most importantly to do with the location of the missing paintings, which neither of them knew. Gruber suspected that Rene might have some information on the matter, but did not want to disturb him further. He had already infringed upon the poor man's business upon this day, and he knew that dear, dear Rene was already helping the Germans – under orders, of course – far more than most; and Gruber felt bad for this fact.

Gruber was briefly snatched away from his thoughts by the smallest waitress at the café, Mimi Labonq, setting down his cognac on the table with a curt nod and an acknowledgement of "Lieutenant." Gruber murmured a thank you and watched as the bite-size woman hurried back into the café. He turned back and took a large gulp of his drink, his thoughts returning to the events of the meeting; and he groaned as he recalled the event that was to occur a mere matter of weeks from now. These wretched formalities…

* * *

"Gruber! Are you paying attention?!" demanded General Von Klinkerhoffen. Gruber's heart skipped a beat and he snapped to attention.

"Yes, General!" Of course, he had spent the last 10 minutes or so poring over the small matter of the missing portrait of the Fallen Madonna with the Big Boobies; but he dare not let on that he had not the faintest idea what the topic of conversation was anymore.

"Good. I should think so too. The Fuhrer will not accept any mistakes. He will not take any lack of preparation lightly."

At this, Gruber's attention was fully upon the matter at hand. The mention of the Fuhrer had struck fear into his heart; he was aware, from previous meetings, that the visit of the Fuhrer and Goering was imminent. He could only assume that the time had finally arrived.

"I trust I can leave the preparations in your capable hands, Colonel?" the General continued. Colonel Von Strohm confidently acknowledged that he could, and the General continued. "Excellent. We will need the Grand Hall at the new headquarters for dining and for the ball. Lieutenant, see to it that the kitchen provides the most excellent meal in abundance for this occasion – no expense must be spared! Helga – " the General directed his attention to the female Lance Corporal situated in the corner of the room – "I trust you can take care of the decorations and the invitations for the grand event. See to it that it is done. Remember, we only have 3 weeks to prepare, and the Fuhrer is travelling all the way from Berlin. Everything must go according to plan."

Gruber, Helga and Von Strohm nodded their understanding. "It shall be done, General," assured the Colonel.

"Excellent. That will be all for now. I will check in with you in precisely one week to make sure the preparations are on track. Heil Hitler." The General clicked his heels and saluted, and promptly left the room.

"Heil Hitler!" chorused the soldiers as he left.

Gruber exhaled a sigh of relief at the departure of the General. Finally, the dreadful meeting was over and done with. However, he was already worried; he knew exactly what these kinds of events meant, he knew exactly what would be expected of him.

"Will that be all, Colonel?" Gruber asked. "If it is acceptable, I would quite like to take my leave now."

Von Strohm glanced at Helga, then back at Gruber, and nodded. "Very well Gruber, you are excused. Do not neglect your duties."

"I will not," Gruber assured him. "Heil Hitler." And with that, he turned and swiftly took his leave.

"What was all that about, Colonel?" asked Helga. "He seemed to be in an awful hurry…"

"My dear Helga, I haven't the foggiest. No one knows quite exactly what goes on in the mind of Lieutenant Hubert Gruber."

* * *

Gruber took the last gulp of his cognac and sighed heavily. He dreaded these sorts of events, for more reasons than one. First of all, he was not a confident, abrasive sort of a man; the idea that he would have to greet Hitler himself directly shot his nerves to pieces and sent his stomach dropping to a new low he had never felt before. Secondly, he would have to be on the lookout all night to make sure that everything was to the pleasure of the Fuhrer, under threat of being shot if not all went to plan. Surprisingly enough however, neither of these things worried Gruber as much as his final concern.

He would have to spend the evening in the close company of a woman. He would have to dance with her, and attend to her, and make out like he was enjoying himself doing so. It is no secret to anyone in the village that Gruber does not make use of the services of Rene's waitress girls as the other soldiers did; but yet he still endeavoured to keep his greatest secret safe with him. And this could all be compromised if his mannerisms slipped up on the night of the grand ball.

Gruber sunk his head into his hands. What on earth was he to do now?


	2. Chapter 2

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own 'Allo 'Allo!, the original storyline or any of the original characters.

I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 2

Helga marched up to the door, straightened her uniform, and stood straight to attention. She shuddered at the thought of what was to come, exhaled roughly, and sharply rapped her knuckles on the door.

"Enter!" demanded a strong, sharp voice from the other side of the room. Even the sound sent shivers down Helga's spine. She walked purposefully into the room, and happily appraised the man in front of her; although she would never let her face betray even a shimmer of her approval.

"Ah, Helga!" the man exclaimed. "How good to see you. I trust you are well?" the bespectacled man lifted his chin, indicating he expected a reply immediately. Helga had always admired the strong, brazen qualities that he possessed, finding they had an overpowering effect upon her that she seldom felt in the presence of another. "Yes, Herr Flick, I am well. And yourself?"

"A little irked, but well nonetheless," Flick replied. "I assume you are aware of the reason why I have called you here?" straight to the point, as always.

"I assumed it was to do with the matter of the grand evening that is to be organised in honour of the Fuhrer's visit," Helga replied.

"You are very perceptive, and would be correct in your assumption," Herr Flick raised himself from his chair and limped around to the front of his desk, with only his cane for aid. "As you may be aware, this visit causes many problems for myself. My godfather with be visiting alongside Herr Hitler, and I must not be seen to be weak!" he banged his cane on the floor in frustration, though he stuck fast in his determination not to let any emotion show through. "This will prove incredibly difficult. I assume you wished to accompany myself to the evening dance?"

Helga stopped dead and allowed herself to simper for a brief moment. "Oh yes, Herr Flick! I would find that most delightful, I would love to be your partner for the evening!"

Flick appraised her for a brief moment. "Of course you would. However, I am afraid that this will not be possible." His unfeeling demeanour quickly wiped the grin from Helga's face. "As you can see, I will not be able to attend the dance; my leg would not be able to cope with such distress."

Helga balked. "Oh, but Herr Flick! What will we do? You need a lady accomplice for the visit; I want nothing more than for you to show your godfather how great you have become since you have been…" she trailed off at the sight of Herr Flick's raised hand, signalling for silence.

"Do not worry, for I have a cunning plan."

"You do?" Helga asked.

"Do not sound so surprised. I am always prepared, I am Herr Flick of the Gestapo! Now, listen carefully. I may not be able to take part in the evening as a man of my standing should. However, I have a plan to make up for this. We will find the missing portrait of the Fallen Madonna with the Big Boobies, hire a Swiss art expert to prove its' authenticity, and then present it to the Fuhrer on the night of the grand ball. Therefore we shall prove our worth as officers of the German army, become higher in regard with the Fuhrer, and thus be granted higher standings and greater power for the duration of the rest of the war."

"Oh Herr Flick, that is a brilliant plan!" Helga clapped her hands together in glee.

"Naturally." Flick allowed himself a small moment of pride, raising his chin and drinking in the compliment.

"However Herr Flick, if I may… I just have one question. Neither we or anyone else we know seem to have any idea of the whereabouts of the fallen Madonna –how on earth will we find it in a mere matter of weeks?"

Herr Flick raised himself to his full height. "Do not worry, Helga. I have everything all worked out." Helga looked to him expectantly. "I suspect that Rene, the peasant café owner, knows something of the whereabouts of the missing portrait. In addition to this, we all know how Lieutenant Gruber holds Rene in high regard; and by my method of deduction, that tells me that Gruber also knows more about the whereabouts of the painting than he is letting on." Flick paused for a moment. "This is where you come in, Helga. You must be Gruber's partner for the dance. You must convince him to let you be his partner, and then the heightened amount of contact you have will allow you to talk to him. Spy on him. Bleed him dry of information if you must. He knows something. I just know it."

Helga fawned at the brilliance of the idea. "Oh Herr Flick! I must say, whilst I am not looking forward to the undertaking of your plan, I can see how you were promoted to such a high ranking! I just wish I could accompany you instead of that unremarkable Lieutenant. However, your plan truly is a brilliant one. May I kiss you?"

Herr Flick nodded curtly. "Of course. But make it quick, I have a meeting with Von Smallhausen in 5," he stayed where he was, but moved his face slightly towards Helga's. Helga attacked with an unrequited passion that Herr Flick had quickly become accustomed to; he, of course, stood stone still. He had no time for such unimportant matters.

Helga broke away from Herr Flick and gasped. "Oh Otto, your kisses send tingles down my spine!" she leant against the mantel and watched for the reaction she desperately craved.

As expected, she did not receive it.

"Helga, you shall address me as Herr Flick from now until I inform you otherwise. You are not permitted to address me in such a colloquial manner; I am your superior. I will see you when I need to. Good day." Herr Flick nodded towards the door in a motion for her to leave. Helga was stunned, but dare not disobey. She left with great haste, shutting the door firmly behind her.

Helga exhaled. She felt as if she had been holding her breath for a substantial amount of time; perhaps she had. She didn't know. What control was it that Herr Flick had over her? How could she gain so much from a relationship (if you could call it that) in which so little input was given by the other? Herr Flick's kisses still left her trembling, this was true. But to tell the truth, she was beginning to get a little bored. Every day was the same; every meeting, every iota of eye contact, of words exchanged between the two. And she was beginning to realise that the kisses they share were no longer as all-consuming as they once were…

Helga quickly realised what she was thinking, and shook these thought processes from her mind. She needed to focus on the matter at hand. Straightening her skirt and her hair, Helga strode purposefully from the room.

She had a Lieutenant to find.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer** I do not own the original plot of 'Allo 'Allo! or any of the original characters!

Chapter 3

Gruber straightened up in his seat and gazed out of the window. Inevitably, after taking his leave from the meeting, he had found himself meandering back towards the Café Rene; and before he knew it he was at his window seat with yet another cognac, wondering if he should be getting worried about the pattern he seemed to be falling into.

He could not bring himself to think of anything else but the contents of today's meeting, and the amount of work he would have to do to change himself within the next 3 weeks. He could not help but wonder, then, if his returning to the Café so often was counter-productive. How would he ever be able to think of consorting with a woman when Rene remained in such close proximity?

Gruber wearily dragged his hands over his eyes and sighed. If only he could bring Clarence, under the guise of training him for future important encounters with senior officers, or some such scenario. He was such a sweet man; their friendship was almost the only thing that allowed him to escape from this wretched war anymore, albeit only for a moment or two.

Suddenly, Gruber became aware of a presence overshadowing his table, and after a few moments of determinedly ignoring said presence, the fact that it did not retreat began to be slightly disconcerting. Eventually he gave in and looked up; and was surprised to see the face of Helga Geerhart looking back down at him.

"Oh it's you, Helga! Such a surprise to see you here – do you have a date with Herr Flick tonight?"

"Not this time, I'm afraid. He appears to have an incredibly important meeting with Von Smallhausen this evening. Not that I would be allowed into such matters, of course." Helga spoke with a venom that surprised herself, let alone Gruber. "And so I decided to have a quiet drink by myself. However, I noticed that you seemed to be upset, and you were so very distant at the meeting earlier… are you alright, Lieutenant?"

Gruber was taken aback; he was not used to such interest from any of his fellow officers. He preferred to bypass life in his own way, conversing only when needs must, and the others usually took this in their stride and let him be. "I suppose I am… nothing to worry yourself about. I am probably just tired."

Helga nodded. "That is most reassuring to hear. Even so, it seems silly to sit alone at separate tables, now that we are both here. May I join you?"

Gruber looked down and vaguely waved at the seat opposite. "Feel free."

Helga took her seat and a few awkward moments passed. She could not help but notice that something was worrying Gruber far more than he was letting on. Worry… or upset? She could not tell.

Gruber took another sip of his drink, and looked up to see Helga watching him intently. He misconstrued this look for expectancy when he noticed that she did not have a drink of her own. "Oh, where are my manners! I'm so sorry, I did not realise… would you like a drink?"

Helga sat back and nodded. "Yes, thank you. A large white wine should do quite nicely."

Gruber's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Really? Somehow I did not take you to be a strong drinker."

Helga smirked. "Somehow, people don't seem to know much about me at all."

Gruber did not respond immediately, but simply waved Mimi over and ordered Helga's drink. "Well then. Somehow, that makes two of us."

Helga raised an eyebrow and appraised the man in front of her. What was this side of him he was letting out so suddenly? He was usually such a quiet, introverted person, except when in the presence of Rene; she was not used to such quick-witted responses from the man. Perhaps he had been drinking for longer than she had thought. She could not seem to shake the feeling that something was upsetting him far more greatly than he was letting on.

Helga's wine arrived, and the two sat in amicable silence for a while, avoiding each other's glances and occasionally sipping their drinks. Eventually, Helga cleared her throat to gain his attention; Herr Flick's plan had to be put into motion eventually, and now seemed as good a time as any.

"So, Lieutenant… how are you feeling about the upcoming visit?" she asked.

Gruber shrugged. "Oh, you know… it's stressful. I have never been in the presence of the Fuhrer or anyone near as high up in rank. I'm a bit worried I will not meet up to expectations… but I suppose everyone is in the same boat." He looked down at his drink. "Besides which, I am incredibly nervous as it seems I will have to meet him alone; I have no one to take as my partner, and all of the women are already taken." He sighed. "The idea is worrying me far more than it should."

Helga leant forward and nodded. "I can understand that."

"How could you? You have Herr Flick. He holds the highest rank of any officer in Nouvion!"

"You don't understand. He is also under a lot of pressure, for various reasons. His leg is no longer supporting him sufficiently either. He will not be mobile throughout the evening and so I won't be able to lean on him if needs be." She sighed. "It looks like this will be a disaster for both of us. At least we may excel ourselves with the preparations!"

Gruber frowned. "I had no idea. I am sorry for presuming." He sat back and rubbed his forehead. "You could be right. This could be a total catastrophe… someone in my standing should not be alone in such company; and would you even be able to go alone? It seems unlikely."

Helga sat up straight and feigned deep thought. "You know what, Lieutenant? I think we can solve each other's problems here."

Gruber's eyes widened in surprise. Surely she was not suggesting…?

"Are you suggesting we go together?" He asked quietly.

Helga broke the short silence that followed. "Well, it would make sense. This way, you will be more confident and secure in your appearance; and I will be able to go and give Herr Flick the support he needs, should he need it. The only problem is…" she trailed off.

"The only problem is…?" prompted Gruber.

"Is… I can't dance very well." Helga lied with ease. "And I am not sure how to fix this problem by the day of the visit. It is a grand ball, after all. What if I should make a fool of myself?"

Gruber responded with a gentle affirmation. "Don't you worry, Helga. I was made to take classes by my father when I was younger. I could teach you the basics, if that would provide you some comfort."

Helga smiled. "If you are sure, Lieutenant? That would be most kind."

"Yes, of course. We do not have much time though. I am away on business in the next town tomorrow; how about we start learning the next day? I can have one of the maids clear the hall in the chateau after dinner…"

"That would be perfect. I do not know how to thank you enough. You are doing me a great service."

Gruber shrugged. "You are helping me just as much, if not more."

Helga smiled. "So it is agreed then." She felt proud; Herr Flick would be impressed that she had managed to put his plan into motion so quickly. The next step would be to gain Gruber's trust enough to be able to ask him about the missing portrait. There was not much time to lose.

Helga took the last gulp of her drink and prepared to leave. "I must apologise, Lieutenant. It is very late and I am to be up at 7 for fitness training. Would you like to walk me back to my quarters?"

Gruber sat for a moment in thought, then shook his head no. "I'm afraid I shall be out for a while longer; but of course I shall not let you go alone at this time." He turned and snapped his fingers for one of the soldiers sitting by the piano to attend to them immediately. "Stobbel. Kindly escort Private Geerhart back to her quarters at once. See to it that she arrives safely."

"Of course, Lieutenant." The young soldier clicked his heels and went to wait by the door.

"So. The day after tomorrow then?" Helga asked.

Gruber nodded yes. "The day after tomorrow. 7pm sharp at the Chateau. I shall meet you there."

Helga nodded and turned to leave. She joined the soldier and, as she made to exit the café, she looked back at Gruber one last time; he already had a fresh cognac in his hand and his face had once again settled to a state of dismay, as it had been when she entered the café. Helga felt a short but strong pang of guilt course through her chest, and quickly shook it off in surprise. This was no time to feel sorry for him! There were larger matters at hand.

She turned and strode out of the door, leaving the junior soldier at least 5 paces behind her. As he struggled to catch up, she reminded herself that there were only 3 weeks of this to endure; 3 weeks, and it would all be over. She and Herr Flick would have gained enough respect with the Fuhrer to keep them in riches forever. He may even invite them to join him back in Berlin.

Lieutenant Gruber, by then, would be all but a distant memory.


	4. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER** I do not own the original plot of 'Allo 'Allo! or any of the original characters.

Chapter 4

Gruber sat in the newly cleared chateau hall, nervously awaiting the arrival of his new dance partner. The room was eerily silent and felt much bigger than even he had anticipated; naturally the room was going to feel enlarged after the removal of the dining tables and chairs, but to this extent, it was making him feel a little uneasy. He rolled his sleeve up and checked his watch. 10 past 7. She was late.

He could not take the silence anymore. Gruber stood abruptly and made his way across the room to the gramophone that was set up at the front of the hall; he sifted through the records that had been laid there until his eyes settled on a recent recording by Charlie and His Orchestra. This would no doubt be on the approved list for the dance – Gruber himself was far more partial to the likes of Glenn Miller and the such, but there would be no way on earth that the name would even be mentioned in the presence of the Fuhrer. No, Charlie would have to do.

Gruber set the record onto the turntable and gently laid the needle down into the grooves. As the music started, he could feel himself easing up and relaxing into the rhythm; he began to hum along and dance, moving his feet swiftly and seamlessly across the wooden floor, slowly to begin with, and then more confidently as he started to lose himself in this brief moment of reprieve.

He had almost lost track of time; the music had taken him away. But all good things must come to an end.

"A-hem," cleared a voice from the hall entrance. Gruber stopped dead mid-spin, a look of complete mortification spread across his face.

"Ah, Helga! Do forgive me, I must apologise… I quite lost myself." Gruber straightened his jacket and snapped his hands to his sides, a blush beginning to form on his face.

Helga suppressed a smile and strode purposefully towards Gruber. "It's quite alright. I can see that you will make an excellent teacher." She stopped in front of him. "I do believe I owe you an apology, also – I am sorry I am so late. I was held up in a meeting with Herr Flick."

Gruber shrugged and looked off to one side. "It is no problem. I know how busy the Gestapo are at the present time. I trust all is well?" He looked expectantly back at Helga.

"Everything is fine. There is just a lot to think about."

Gruber nodded in agreement, and looked down at his watch. "Time is getting on. Shall we begin?"

Helga nodded back at him, and Gruber gestured for her to move towards the centre of the room. "I thought we would begin with a gentle swing step." He proffered her his right arm. "Take my arm, and follow my lead."

Helga placed her hand on his outstretched forearm, and he gently, but firmly, wrapped his palm around hers in response. She noticed how strongly he held her, and how respectfully; nothing like the indifference and condescension she regularly received from Herr Flick. Immediately she shook the thought from her mind and redirected her focus instead on being a bad dancer. The worse she was, the more lessons she would receive… and she needed all the time she could get.

* * *

Gruber lifted the needle from the LP and, picking the record up gently from the player, slipped it back into the sleeve. He turned to look at Helga and smiled. "You are already improving. This should not take long!"

Helga smiled back, although inwardly she was grimacing. "Why, thank you Lieutenant! I was right – you are an excellent teacher. I shall work hard to do you justice." Why was this so easy? If she tried any harder to dance badly, she would end up sat on the floor in protest. This didn't make any sense. Maybe the Lieutenant was just trying to be polite; if so then this irked her to no end, as it did her no favours at all.

"You know, Helga… I can only dance to an acceptable level because of the strength of character and commitment of my own teacher."

Helga balked. What was he talking about? What had this to do with anything?

"Oh yes?"

"Yes. You see, I never wanted to dance at all. I never really wanted to do any of the things that I have ended up doing. I am only successful because of the effort and commitment my father put in, and the faith that both my parents had in me." Gruber sighed. "Being an only child, it was not easy. They pinned all their hopes and dreams on me to be successful – and all I really wanted…"

Helga raised her eyebrows expectantly. "Yes, Lieutenant?"

"… Never mind. This is not the time, or the place. My point is… you can do anything you set your heart to, when you have the right people around to support you." He smiled. "I promise I will make you into an excellent dancer by the day of the ball. Herr Flick will be most impressed!"

Helga did a double take. Who was this man? His words had brightened her mood, and she realised that he was a lot kinder than she had ever been able to see before. He had such faith in her, faith that no other had ever shown. She smiled at him and lightly touched his forearm in gratitude.

"Thank you, Lieutenant. You are most kind… I cannot thank you enough."

A few moments of silence passed; and suddenly Gruber began to realise the awkwardness of the situation he found himself in. He cleared his throat and, gently but firmly, shifted his arm away from Helga's touch. "So. Would you like to practise again soon?"

Helga nodded. "That would be most kind of you. I think I need as much time as I can find – I do not want to make a fool out of myself, or you for that matter, when the night arrives."

Gruber smiled and half-shrugged his shoulders. "Don't you worry about me, Helga. I should be fine. Anyway, I am actually rather enjoying the company – tonight has brought me far more than in recent months." Sheepishly he averted his gaze, fixating on a particularly bright star shining through the opposite high window. "Thank you. I have enjoyed this evening."

Helga paused for a moment, and then; "so have I."

Gruber gestured for Helga to walk with him to the doors. "I am free again on Friday if you would like to resume then? Same time, same place. I shall teach you how to waltz."

Helga nodded in agreement. "That sounds fine to me." She turned to face him as they reached the door. "Thank you so much once again. I look forward to the next time."

Gruber watched as Helga turned back and left the hall. Once she was out of sight he sighed heavily, and softly replied;

"Me too."


	5. Chapter 5

**DISCLAIMER** I do not own the original storyline of 'Allo 'Allo! or any of the original characters.

Chapter 5

Helga sat in the parlour outside Colonel Von Strohm's office, sipping at her coffee and typing out the letters of the day. It was a clear, sunny Monday, and everything seemed to be just fine; she was on track to hit her working target for the day; the results from her fitness test this morning had never been higher; and the preparations for the Fuhrer's visit were going swimmingly well. In addition to this, her last dance practise with Lieutenant Gruber had been most rewarding – she was gaining his trust, and they were able to speak more openly about any matter they felt like.

However, this was exactly the reason why Helga was not in as good a mood as one might imagine.

Helga was concerned she was neglecting the task she had been set. It was now just over a week since she began meeting for her dance lessons with Lieutenant Gruber, and she was no closer to finding out the whereabouts of the missing painting as she had been when she started. Initially, the plan was set into motion at an incredible pace; and Herr Flick had been proud, so much so that he had even chosen to bestow a kiss upon her as a reward. But Helga did not feel the wonders of this reward as she once had, and she began to find herself in a position where she was looking forward to her meetings with Gruber far more than she did with Flick. Suddenly, it was no longer just about the painting, or the reward, or even her social standing; it was the company she shared with Lieutenant Gruber that she looked forward to the most.

Friday had been and gone, and with it had come a change in the wind. For the first time, Helga and Gruber had sat for a drink after their dance classes, and felt comfortable enough to speak about matters not pertaining to their duties, or the task at hand. They had spoken about how they came to be based in Nouvion; they had laughed at the expense of the café Rene and Rene himself, who seemed to have found himself at the centre of the most absurd web of situations in the whole of France; and they had spoken about their plans for after the war. Gruber was far more than she had ever expected, and fearfully, Helga began to realise that she was enjoying his company far more than she should be.

* * *

"Oh, dear!" Gruber chuckled, wiping a tear from his eye. "I suppose it is quite far-fetched, isn't it?"

"It most certainly is!" Helga chortled. "How Rene has managed to find himself in such a situation, I will never know! I mean, what is it about him that seems to attract all this chaos?!"

Gruber, calming himself, sat back and smiled. "I have no idea. He is quite the charmer – I suppose that must have something to do with it! His serving girls have always shown an intense interest in him; it is no wonder then that he is a beacon for trouble!" Gruber looked up to the ceiling and sighed contentedly.

Helga's lips half-turned upwards into a smile. "You've always had a soft spot for Rene, haven't you?"

Gruber looked back down at her. "I must say… I have."

Helga sat for a moment in silence, and then softly asked; "why?"

"I'm… not entirely sure," Gruber responded truthfully. "I suppose… he is quite kind, looking after us Germans the way he does…"

Helga leant forward and responded softly. "Gruber… you do realise that he has to be kind to us? We are the Nazi army and we are occupying his town. If he does not comply, he will be shot. It is not out of kindness of the heart that he is treating us well."

Gruber looked down at the floor, and Helga felt a pang of guilt course through her chest.

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant. I didn't mean to upset you. I just don't think… you should get your hopes up around him. He will be long gone once the war is over. You are too good of a man to feel such sadness…"

He looked back up at her and strained a smile. "It is quite alright, Helga. You are right, of course. There is no reason for me to feel as close to him as I do. If my commanding officers back in Berlin even caught a whiff of this…"

Helga rested her hand upon his. "Don't you worry. No one shall ever know."

Gruber locked eyes with her, and felt a rush of calm rise through his stomach and into his chest. He noticed his breathing become more stable, and he felt more at ease with himself and his surroundings than he had in months.

Whatever this budding friendship really was, Private Helga Geerhart had turned out to be a gift.

"A-hem." Gruber cleared his throat and slowly slid his hand out from underneath Helga's. "My apologies; I don't seem to be behaving in a very gentlemanly-like manner. Enough of all this sadness. Tell me, Helga – what do you plan to do after the war? Where will you go?"

Helga sat for a moment in thought. What _was_ she going to do? "I'm not sure. My family are all living back in Hamburg, so I have the option to go back there. I suppose it depends on Herr Flick and what his plans are. As it stands, I will most likely be accompanying him in his future endeavours."

Gruber nodded. "Herr Flick is a well-off man. Presuming the war ends in our favour, he will be able to look after you well." He paused. "Tell me about your family? It has occurred to me that I do not know all that much about you – I did not even know you were from Hamburg! What is it like there?"

Helga smiled. "You are very sweet to be taking such an interest. Although I must say, there's not really that much to tell. Hamburg is busy – not quite as busy as Berlin, but it is big enough. My family is very large, so I was fortunate to grow up living on the outskirts; there was plenty of space there for my siblings and I to run and play."

Gruber leant forward, eagerly taking in this information. "You have siblings? How many?"

Helga laughed. "You really are very sweet indeed. I grew up with 7 siblings. Sadly I now only have 5, but my family count our blessings for those we have left."

Gruber's mouth dropped open in surprise. "Oh, Helga… that is so horrible to hear! I am upset that such misfortune has fallen upon you…"

Helga looked at him and smiled briefly. "It's quite alright. Like I say, we are grateful for the healthy members of our family who remain. My brothers will not be forgotten." She took her empty wine glass and poured a fresh new drink. "More wine, Gruber?"

He nodded his head yes. "That would be most lovely."

She poured him a glass, and together they took the first sip. A moment of silence passed and Helga noticed that Gruber was still looking at her with anticipation; she decided to continue on with her story.

"I was the 3rd born out of 5 boys and 3 girls. There were my two older brothers, Augustus Jr. and Hubert; then I was born; then after me came Leo, Greta, Rosa, Franz, and my youngest brother, Josef."

Gruber leant forward. "Wow. That's a very large family indeed. You must've been so lucky to have so many people around you for company! I can only express how sorry I am to hear of your losses."

Helga looked down. "I suppose you would like to know what happened?"

Gruber leant down and looked her in the eyes. "Only if you're comfortable. You don't have to say anything."

She sighed, and looked back up at him. "They are two very different stories. I suppose my family is most lucky to have as many surviving children as we did; especially as we could not afford healthcare." She paused. "Franz, my second youngest brother… he was only 5 years old when he passed away. He contracted the measles, and we had to wrap him up in as many blankets as we could and confine him to the outhouse, so as not to infect any of the other children. His poor, frail, ill body could not handle the cold." She took a deep breath. "One morning my parents went to take him out some broth and a fresh blanket, but… he was no longer with us."

Gruber froze in a stunned silence. "Oh my… I am so, so sorry to hear of this. The poor little boy…"

Helga shrugged, but Gruber could see she was fighting back tears. "I was only 13 when he left us. I suppose I didn't really understand what a loss that big was meant to feel like. The loss of my other brother, however…"

She could not fight it anymore; Helga looked down and let a tear escape down her cheek. She tried desperately to hide it, but Gruber had already seen. Without thinking, he took her hand. "What happened?" he softly asked.

Helga was shaking gently, but she was determined to battle through the tears. "It was Hubert… one of my older brothers. He was only a year older than me and we were very close. He was my favourite out of all of my siblings; we told each other everything. Anyway, he… he died on the Russian Front."

Gruber's hand involuntarily clenched around Helga's, and he did not speak. Helga jumped at the sudden pressure she felt, and looked up at Gruber with concern, noticing all too suddenly that his face had gone completely ashen. "Lieutenant? Are you alright?"

Gruber gulped and tried to compose himself, though he still felt he was completely frozen to his seat. "I'm fine, don't you worry. I should be consoling you through this… my apologies; I was just a bit shaken, that's all."

Helga looked at him quizzically. Wiping a tear from her cheek, she asked; "why? What's wrong?"

Gruber exhaled heavily and gathered up all the courage he could muster. "I'm so sorry, it's just that… well, your brother shares my name, for a start; and it seems we nearly shared the same fate. It's nothing short of a miracle that I was sent from the Russian Front here to Nouvion. I was shot at, and injured… if it wasn't for the medics there…"

Helga gasped. "Oh my goodness, I had no idea! I am so, so sorry!" She squeezed his hand gently. "I shall be careful not to bring it up again."

He gently squeezed her hand in return. "Nor shall I. It does not do to relive such upsetting memories; you're right, his memory will live on, and so will that of your younger brother. I shall remember Hubert as the boy who kept you company growing up, and who looked after you when you became a woman; and as a man who died a hero, bravely and valiantly for our country."

A rush of emotion formed in Helga's chest and spread all the way down through her stomach and limbs, settling into little pinpricks of feeling which tingled and scuttled around the tips of her fingers and her toes. She gasped silently and tried to compose herself. Never before had anyone shown such compassion for her or her family, and here he was, this gentle man who had barely known her for a few months, speaking of her brothers as though they were royalty. She felt a strong urge to pull him into a hug but managed to suppress it, knowing that it was not appropriate; and sadly realising that he would not be too happy to receive such affection in any state. Instead, she cleared her throat, and with her free hand, lifted her glass to her lips and took a sip of wine; and when she had released the glass back onto the table, she looked to Gruber and asked if he might be so kind as to tell her about his childhood as well.

"Again, there's… not really much to tell." Gruber responded. He paused to take a sip of his drink and then continued. "It seems I grew up in very different circumstances to yourself. I was born an only child into a wealthy family in Berlin; my father gave me his name, and I was brought up to inherit all the family owns, and their reputation."

"Wow…" Helga breathed. "That must have been difficult."

"It wasn't to begin with." Gruber replied. He sighed. "As a child, I did what I was told, when I was told. Under the orders of my father I partook in fitness training every morning, followed by lessons given at my home by various professors in their fields; I was tutored in Language and Literature, Mathematics, Science, German and World History, French, English and Geography. At 2 o'clock I was allowed to break for lunch; and then my afternoons were taken up with various other classes, followed by 2 more lessons after supper."

Helga was stunned. "You say that wasn't tough? I've never heard of anything quite like it! What else were you made to learn? You must have had time to rest, surely?"

Gruber shrugged. "Not really. Any time I had free was taken up accompanying my father to wherever he was going, and learning about whatever he was doing. In the afternoons I learnt to dance with a partner, to play the piano and to sing; and finally, how to paint, alongside which I was tutored a great deal in art history and appreciation."

Helga sat in astonished silence. "I can't believe what I am hearing… that is simply too intense; I have never in my life…"

Gruber laughed. "It's alright, it wasn't all that bad. I had my pet dog, and he was all mine. He kept me company at night and prompted me to go for walks in the day and get some fresh air, even when I was too tired to move." He sighed. "It wasn't so much the intensity or the amount of work that I had to do that concerned me. It just was, and even to this day… the fear that I will never be what my father wanted me to be, that I will never make him proud. I am his only son and he invested everything into me; I must live up to his name." He looked down in shame. "If he could see me now… see what a pathetic, queer little man I am…"

"Stop." Helga was quiet, but firm. "You must never speak like that. If you speak like that, he has won."

Gruber stopped dead, a look of confusion on his face. "What do you mean?"

"What I mean, Lieutenant, is that you are a wonderful, clever young man who is doing his utmost to do his duty to protect and serve his country. I have seen you dance, I have seen you play the piano, I have even seen some of the paintings on the easel in your quarters through the window as I am passing. I have heard you speak fluent English and French, and devise some of the most cunning and intelligent plans of any officer who is situated here in Nouvion. Your father should be proud of you. And if he isn't, well… that's his loss. You are a credit to your family."

Gruber sat in stunned silence. Never had he been spoken to like that before. It felt… nice.

"Thank you." He whispered.

Helga said nothing, but squeezed his wrist. "And just remember, after the war you can be anything you want to be. This won't last forever, for either of us."

Gruber smiled. "You are quite right. Thank you, thank you so much."

Helga smiled back at him as a chime rang in the distance. Gruber jumped and looked at his watch.

"My word, look at the time!" He exclaimed. "It's just gone one – we should not be out this late, it is quite improper. Let me walk you back to your quarters."

Helga shook her head no. "It's quite alright. I dare not let Herr Flick see I have been out so late; his jealousy knows no bounds. I would not want to get you into trouble." She smiled at him, and stood up from her seat. "Do not worry about me, I shall get back to my quarters just fine. We are in the same building so there is no threat to me."

Gruber nodded. "If you are sure. I shall stay here for a while longer; come and find me if you run into any trouble."

Helga smiled in gratitude. "Thank you, Lieutenant. I shall do. When would you next like to resume our dance classes?"

Gruber thought for a moment. "I am away a few towns over for the whole of this weekend, in charge of an excursion with one of the new platoons, but we are due to return early on Monday morning. Shall we say Monday evening, same time, same place?"

Helga nodded. "That sounds most pleasing. I look forward to it. I… have thoroughly enjoyed this evening."

He smiled back at her and tilted his head slightly to one side. "I have too. It has been wonderful getting to know you, as of late."

"And the same to you."

Helga turned and strode purposefully out of the hall; she did not turn back once. Gruber sat in a shocked state of silence for a moment or two, before he shook his head to pull himself together; he lifted a cigar out of the packet in his pocket and struck a match, taking a few heavy puffs before pulling the cigar from between his lips and exhaling 3 large rings of smoke. He had no idea what had just happened… but he had certainly enjoyed it; and to his surprise, he noted that he was already looking forward to his next meeting with Private Helga Geerhart.

* * *

Helga sunk her head into her hands. It had been a wonderful evening, indeed, and she had never felt so close to anyone as she currently did to Lieutenant Hubert Gruber. She was scared; this was not the way things were meant to work. She was bound to Herr Flick and her duty to her country.

With a clear of the throat and a straightening of the jacket, Helga made her final decision; she would no longer allow herself to get close to Gruber. He was merely a pawn in Herr Flick's plan, and she would do well to remember that. There would be no more niceties from now on; only business. She was determined.

Suddenly there was an abrupt rap on the door. Surprised, Helga checked her clock; it was only 10:34am. The general was not due for his meeting with the colonel for another 20 minutes at least.

"Enter!" Helga demanded.

The door opened, and an unknown soldier entered the parlour. He was young and clearly inexperienced, by the lack of patches or badges; but clear in his need to impress, as he clicked his heels and stood to attention, staring high at the wall behind Helga.

"I have come with a message for Private Geerhart!" the soldier announced.

"Yes, that is I. What is your message?" Helga enquired.

"It is a message from Lieutenant Gruber. He asks that you not meet him in the chateau hall at 7 tonight, but requests instead that you meet him in the café Rene. He asks me to pass on that he is not feeling up to it after his mission this weekend."

Helga's heart skipped a beat. "Why? What happened?"

The soldier paused for a moment, weighing up whether or not he should divulge the details; eventually he opted for a shorter way out. He took a deep breath.

"The Lieutenant has been shot."


	6. Chapter 6

**DISCLAIMER** I do not own the original plot of 'Allo 'Allo! or any of the original characters.

Chapter 6

Helga rushed out of the Chateau and hurried across the town square. A million thoughts were rushing through her mind, jumbling up into each other and giving her a headache so bad that she could barely think. Her heart pounded – the rest of the day had been torturous; watching and waiting impatiently as the second hand on the face of her clock ticked past at snail's pace, wondering and worrying if Gruber was all right. 6:30pm had not come quick enough.

He had to be alright. He just _had_ to be.

After what seemed like a millennia, Helga finally reached the entrance to the café Rene. She slammed open the doors, earning a few odd looks from the other customers who were seated inside; but she was far too preoccupied to notice. She skimmed the room for Lieutenant Gruber, and her heart sank when she realised that he had not yet arrived. Deflated, Helga sank into the chair by the window and gazed out of the window, trying hard to steady her breathing; her brow furrowed with concern.

The time passed by, and outside the sky was getting darker and darker. Helga checked her watch; 7:45pm, and still no sign of Gruber. She tried hard not to panic – he said he would be here. Or, at the very least, the young soldier said that he said he would be here. Helga groaned and rested her head in her hands. WHY wasn't he here?

All of a sudden, Helga could feel that someone was watching her. Uncomfortable, she looked up, and found herself face to face with Rene; who looked both terrified and regretful that he had made the decision to approach her in the first place.

"A-hem…" Rene coughed. "I was just wondering, Madame, if you were feeling okay? You have been here a very long while, and you seem to be fixated on that post box across the square…" Rene gestured out through the window.

"I am quite alright," Helga snapped. "If you must know, I am waiting on my company for the evening!"

Rene nodded in understanding. "Ah. I presume Herr Flick is busy again?"

Helga was taken back. "No, Rene! No, for once I am not being stood up! If you must know, I am waiting on Lieutenant Gruber – not that you would care!"

Rene stepped back in fear. "I do apologise! I really did not have any idea, I should not have presumed. May I offer you a drink by way of apology? On the house, of course." He clutched the empty tray he was carrying to his chest and fearfully awaited her answer.

Helga sighed. "I, too, am sorry. I should not have snapped like that; you were not to know. A large brandy would do just fine. And, if you wouldn't mind… a cognac for when the Lieutenant arrives."

Rene nodded and bowed backwards towards the bar. "Of course. Right away, Helga."

Helga nodded in response and turned back to look out of the window. It was now too dark to see out further than her reflection in the window pane; she appraised the image and realised with a jolt that she looked an absolute wreck. Her hair was untidy, her collar was crooked and her cheeks were flushed from the altercation. What a mess. She looked back down at her watch for the umpteenth time; 8:36pm. Where _was_ he?

The drinks arrived, and time continued to pass. Helga gradually became aware of the stares she was receiving from her fellow customers; it was certainly a strange sight to see a woman left alone for so long, and so late in the evening. She chose to ignore the looks, and instead to continue staring out of the window, in the hopes that he would suddenly appear.

* * *

"Helga? Helga, wake up… it's me." Helga felt a gentle hand shake her shoulder as the soft voice came further into clarity. She groaned and lifted her head slowly, raising her hand to rub the sleep from her eyes before looking up to reveal who had woken her from her slumber.

Gruber looked down at her, a look of guilt spread across his face. She noticed he had his arm in a sling, and the shoulder of his jacket was draped across the affected arm; leaving his shirt exposed, and his collar undone. He looked almost as dishevelled as her, and just as tired, if not more so.

"I am so sorry to have kept you waiting… thank you for ordering my drink." He gestured to the two glasses on the table, one full to the brim, the other completely drained empty.

Helga felt a sudden wave of anger fill her head and her chest; she raised herself from her seat and, in a fit of emotion, she swatted his good arm. "You idiot! How could you do this to me? Do you have any idea what was going through my mind? I have been frantic all day! ARE YOU ALRIGHT?"

As soon as it started, it was over; she collapsed into an exhausted heap back onto her chair. Gruber looked stunned, and after a few moments silently drinking in what had just occurred, he slowly took his seat opposite her.

"Helga… I really am sorry. Please let me explain?" He pleaded.

Helga said nothing, but nodded at him to continue, her eyes resting on the floor.

"You see… I really did intend to be here at 7pm. There was initially no reason why I should not have been. But then I was called to see the General… he is most displeased at the attack we suffered over the weekend. He has granted me another chance, for which I am eternally thankful. I am able to stay and continue my duties here in Nouvion. But it was around half past 8 when I was finally free to go, and…" he sighed. "I am sorry. I felt I had let you down, and everyone else, too. I was already late to meet you; I don't know how well I'm going to be able to teach you now. I suppose I should count my blessings that it was not one of my legs that was injured. But I am afraid… I am afraid I will make this mistake again. This should not have happened. Many of my platoon were injured far worse than myself, and I am responsible for that."

He picked up his glass, drained half, and sat back in his seat with a heavy sigh. "You are right, however. I should have been here to let you know that it was just my arm, that everything is alright. I am truly sorry. Can you forgive me?" He looked up at her with pleading eyes.

Helga paused for a moment, and then raised her eyes to meet his. "Of course I can. There is nothing to forgive. Just… please do not worry me like that again?"

Gruber nodded, and formed a shaky smile. "Of course not."

Helga smiled back at him and breathed a sigh of relief. "In a way, I suppose it is good that you were so late – it would not have done at all for me to create such a scene in front of a full café!"

Gruber laughed. "No, I suppose it wouldn't! Although the sight of it would probably have proved to be a gossip point for many weeks… especially in a little town like this where the most interesting thing that happens is when the pigeons fall from the sky at the sound of Madame Edith's singing…"

They laughed amicably, for many minutes longer than such a joke deserved. Eventually, when the mood died down, Gruber looked at his watch and realised it was getting late; they were both tired, and they needed to get to sleep.

"Shall we walk together back to the Chateau?" Gruber offered.

Helga nodded. "That would be most lovely."

They both stood from their seats and, with a smile, Gruber bowed his head slightly and proffered his arm to Helga. "M'lady?"

"Why thank you, kind sir!" Helga chuckled, and gently she took hold of his forearm. They shared a smile, and Helga picked up Gruber's hat; realising that he now had no free hands to take it, she gently placed it onto his head. "Shall we?"

"We shall."

Rene and his waitresses could do nothing but gawp at the sight as the couple, arm in arm, left the café together. Rene shook his head in disbelief.

"I must say… this war does some strange, strange things to people."


	7. Chapter 7

**DISCLAIMER** I do not own the original plot of 'Allo 'Allo! or any of the original characters.

Chapter 7

The Café door dinged as it slammed shut behind Gruber and Helga, and, arm in arm, they made their way across the town square together. They walked along in a comfortable silence, the dark sky only vaguely illuminated by the few street lamps adorning the pavement; and it was not long before they reached the entrance to the Chateau.

Gruber released Helga's arm and pulled the door open for her. She smiled and thanked him, and he followed her inside, where they walked into the foyer, stopping when they reached the T-junction of the corridor, and turned to face each other.

Helga smiled. "Thank you for coming to see me tonight, Lieutenant; even if your time-keeping turned out to be quite questionable!"

Gruber grimaced guiltily. "You are most welcome. I can only apologise for how long it took me to come to you – thank you also, for being so understanding."

They stood in silence for a moment or two, neither of them wanting to end the evening, but both being too nervous to say so. Eventually, Gruber realised they could not stand there forever; he shuffled his feet and began to speak.

"Well, I… I suppose I'd better leave you here," he stammered.

Helga smiled sadly. "Yes, I… I suppose so too. It has been nice to see you."

She patted his arm gently and, with one last parting smile, she turned and began to make her way down the corridor, towards her quarters.

Gruber watched her departing form retreat from him; he could not quell the sadness that had begun to rise in his chest. He enjoyed his time with Helga. He never seemed to be able to talk to anyone as honestly and openly as he found he could with her, and slowly he had started to realise that he could not cope as well being alone as he once had. It had been an unexpected development in his life, that much was certain; but for whatever reason, he craved the time he spent with Helga, and when he was not with her, he was almost always thinking about her.

Gruber could not take it anymore. "HELGA?" he called down the hallway.

Helga turned abruptly to look at him, a glimmer of hope apparent on her face. "Yes, Lieutenant?"

Gruber stopped and stuttered. "I… don't suppose you would like to join me in my quarters for a quick night-cap?"

Helga was filled with happiness at the request; she tried not to let it show too much on her face, although she could not help letting slip a small smile.

"Oh, Lieutenant! I would like that very much indeed!" she strode back towards him, and he noticed that she displayed a small swing in her step that had not been present when she had walked away from him before.

Once she had caught up to him, he beamed and offered her his arm; smiling back and taking it, they made their way to his quarters, both inwardly joyful at the prospect of spending a little more time together.

Unbeknownst to them, they were not alone.

* * *

Gruber pulled the ball-stopper from the large crystal decanter, and carefully, poured two small tumblers of the opaque, light-brown liquid inside.

From behind him, sat on the luxurious silken couch, Helga spoke. "If I may ask, Lieutenant, what exactly are we drinking?"

Gruber turned to face her and handed her one of the tumblers, before taking a seat beside her on the couch. "Why, German whiskey, of course! Nothing but the best, either. I think you will find this one to be quite palatable." He held his tumbler slightly towards her, indicating for her to clink her glass against his. She did so, and the two drained their glasses together.

Helga pulled the glass from her lips with a gasp. "My word, that packed quite the punch!"

Gruber gleamed. "Yes, but wasn't it just lovely?"

Helga smiled at him. "It rather did, you were right; I enjoyed it very much. In fact, why not have another?"

Gruber raised his eyebrows. "Already?" he questioned.

She laughed. "Well, _why_ not? After all, I did just find out that you weren't, in fact, mauled by the resistance, but instead just sporting an incredibly snazzy new piece of arm wear…" she lightly tapped the sling, and continued; "that is good enough of a reason to celebrate, surely?"

Gruber chuckled softly. "I don't see why not! In fact, would you like a cigarette to go with that order? I shall bring out my finest box; they only appear in the most exceptional of circumstances!"

Helga leant forward and beamed. "That would be wonderful, Lieutenant!"

Gruber stood and looked down at her; smiling, he answered. "Please, Helga. Call me Hubert." He picked up the empty tumblers and, turning away from her, walked back towards the dresser to fetch the second round, and his posh cigarettes from the top drawer.

Helga sat back and smiled. She never wanted to leave; she was beginning to realise that Gruber was one of the most wonderful men she had ever met. In the back of her mind she knew that Herr Flick would not be happy to know of how little progress she had made with their plan, but right now, she could not care a dot. She wanted to revel in this moment forever.

Gruber returned with the tumblers; he set them down on the table, and promptly pulled two cigarettes from his pocket. Placing one first between Helga's lips, and then his own, he struck a match and they both leaned in towards the flame to light the tips. Once lit, the two pulled away from each other and continued to chat; before they knew it half the cigarettes had been smoked and there was not a drop of whiskey to be seen, and the time was approaching half past two, the dark, early hours of the morning. But the tears had begun to fall from Helga's eyes, and Gruber knew he could not leave her alone.

Gruber pulled Helga into his shoulder and rested his head upon hers; both she and himself were quite drunk by now, and it seemed the natural thing to do. Instinctively, he pressed his hand gently to the side of her head, and circled his thumb around the golden locks of hair he found hanging loose there.

"My dear Helga, what is the matter?" Gruber asked, his voice leaking concern.

Helga pushed her face into his strong, comforting shoulder and sobbed, dampening his uniform; which smelled rustic and faintly of cologne, and sent her brain reluctantly spinning.

"Oh, Hubert… I have done such a bad thing… I am such a bad person…" she cried.

Gruber turned slightly and nested his face into her hair; her shampoo smelt of strawberries and her hair was as soft as silk. "What is it, what have you done?" he murmured. "You can tell me anything, you know."

Helga hiccupped slightly and pulled her face away from him, as far as it took for her to look him in the eyes, and no further. "I am afraid… I cannot tell you…" she began to sob again. "You would never forgive me."

Gruber tucked his index finger under her chin, and lifted her head, ever so slightly. "I would forgive you, for anything you may have done. There is always a way to work through these things."

Helga looked into his eyes, and saw the earnestness that lay there, the kind, caring eyes of a man who could never lie. Gruber returned the gaze, and noted the remnants of her tears that lay nested in the corner of her eyes; gently, he removed his hand from her chin, and wiped the tears aside. As he did so, Helga took hold of his hand between her own; and, instinctively, Gruber slowly leaned down and captured her lips with his own.

Helga froze in surprise, and for a moment she did not react – but as Gruber deepened the kiss, she realised that in this moment, this was all she ever wanted; and she relaxed into his touch. She felt his lips move softly against her own, and she could taste the strong whiskey and cigarette on his breath; the taste mingled with the smell of his cologne, and sent her senses into an uncontrollable frenzy. Suddenly, she could feel his tongue gently tracing her upper lip, and she gently parted her lips, allowing him to explore further – she pushed gently but forcefully back against him, teasing with him, dancing with him; slowly feeling out his wants and desires, and desperately clamouring for more.

Gruber wrapped his good arm around Helga's waist; he stood up and took her with him, slowly pulling her towards his bed at the other end of the room. They fell down, sitting, upon the satin sheets, and Gruber moved his hand to her jaw, tracing her jawline - then pulling her into him as far as he could as if however close she was, it wasn't close enough. His brain was screaming at him to stop, this wasn't right; but Gruber could feel a stirring in the pit of his stomach, and he felt compelled to kiss her with a passion that he had never felt before.

Evidently the feeling was mutual, as Gruber suddenly felt Helga's hand on his chest, pushing him forcefully back onto the bed. Once he was laid back onto his soft stack of pillows, he looked up at her and saw her concentrating down on his chest; her hands moved towards his collar and began unbuttoning his shirt, as she looked up at him, leaned down, and claimed his lips for her own once more.


	8. Chapter 8

**DISCLAIMER**: I do not own the original plot of 'Allo 'Allo! or any of the original characters.

Chapter 8

Helga awoke to a stream of murky blue light gleaming in through the window; her head was pounding. She groggily opened her eyes, adjusting to the light, and realised that she did not recognise the unfamiliar surroundings. However, after taking a moment to gather her thoughts, she began to recollect the events of the night before. She smiled as she remembered the taste of Gruber's lips upon her own, the way he smiled at every touch she placed upon his skin, and the feel of his strong arms wrapped around her as they slowly drifted off to sleep.

She propped herself up on one elbow and turned to look at the place he had lain, hoping to see his sweet, dreaming face – but the other half of the bed lay empty, with only a crumpled edge of the duvet and a pillow thrown askew towards the edge of the bed. Disappointed, Helga looked round for Gruber, but found she was alone in the room; she turned back to her own bedside table to seek the time from the alarm clock. It was 6:15, later than she usually awoke, and upon closer inspection she found a folded note nestled behind the clock.

Both intrigued and hopeful, Helga took the note and sat up against the headboard to read it; she unfolded it, and skimmed through the small, neat calligraphy that was written there.

 _Helga,_

 _Forgive me for leaving you. I have gone out for my morning run, and did not want to wake you._

 _Please wait for me; I look forward to seeing you upon my return._

 _H.G._

Helga smiled and sighed; he was sweet, even when not in person. She folded the note back up and tucked it into the inside pocket of her uniform jacket, which lay strewn on the floor beside the bed. Lifting herself back up, she wriggled back down into the warmth of the duvet; there was no need for morning fitness today. This was the first time she had felt this happy in a very long while, and she intended to enjoy it.

Turning over to face Gruber's side of the bed, she pulled his pillow into her chest and cuddled it close, burying her nose into the soft material and inhaling his scent, which had sunk into the feathers inside; the intoxicating smell permeated her senses and made her drowsy. She had almost drifted back off to sleep, when she was given the shock of her life.

SLAM!

Helga bolted upright and whipped her head round to the source of the noise. To her absolute horror, she found Herr Flick standing where the door had been, his face filled with rage; the door looked as if it was now permanently embedded in the wall.

"What is the meaning of this?!" bellowed the Gestapo officer.

Helga jumped out of bed and bolted towards him. "Please, Herr Flick, you do not understand – it is not what it looks li-"

"Do not give me that, you common tart! When I said bleed him dry, I assumed you would have known that that did not mean laying with him! And now I find you, in his bed, in his quarters, in nothing but your undergarments?! I saw you returning here with him last night! Explain yourself!" Flick was visibly seething, his breathing out of control.

"Herr Flick, listen to me! I know that this does not look good, but I promise you, I did not lay with him! I simply came back to his quarters, upon his request, to see if I could locate the missing painting while he was asleep!"

Flick looked scathingly towards Helga. "And what of me finding you here, still in his bed, in your undergarments?!"

"There is a simple explanation for this! Think logically for a moment, I beg of you! If I had lain with him, I would be attired in a lot less than my undergarments, would I not?!

Flick paused for a moment. "I suppose that is correct…"

"Also, I implore you to think of him! We all are perfectly aware of Lieutenant Gruber's leanings, am I right?"

Flick's breathing began to calm; he took a deep breath and leaned on his cane to steady himself.

"And as for still being in his quarters at this time; when I awoke, he had already left for his morning run. How would I be able to sustain his trust if I simply left without saying goodbye? I promise you, Herr Flick, this is nothing but a deep friendship that is forming; is that not what you wanted?" she paused and looked at him, trying desperately not to let her fear give her away.

Flick looked up at her; his face was no longer radiating anger, but had returned to its' neutral state. Helga could not tell if he believed her.

"My apologies, Helga. It seems as if you are doing a fine job. Have you managed to locate the missing painting?"

"Not yet, Herr Flick. I have conducted a thorough search of these quarters and it is nowhere to be found." Helga tried hard to look sincere, her heart pounding in her chest. "If I may, Herr Flick… you should probably take your leave. The Lieutenant will be back shortly and the entire operation will be blown if he finds you in here."

Flick flinched, and drew himself up to his full height, which had never been very becoming, and enabled him to stand a mere inch shorter than Helga. "Very well. Our time is running out, Helga; we must find that painting." He lifted his chin expectantly. "You may kiss me before I leave."

Helga tried to look disappointed; worried that she was overdoing it, she replied with as much sincerity as she could muster. "I am afraid I cannot, Herr Flick. There is simply no time."

Flick lowered his chin and peered at her over the top of his spectacles. "Very well. Just remember, I expect results, and soon." He turned and, using his cane for support, limped his way out of the room.

Helga exhaled an almighty breath; she could not believe what had just happened. In a matter of minutes she had managed to spin a web of lies so dangerous that her very existence hung in the balance. While she had been truthful about not laying beside Gruber, she had not been so truthful about the platonic nature of their relationship, and this could cost her life.

She went to shut the door, noting how fortunate it was that the heavy gold handle had not left a dent in the wall. Once this was done, she made her way back over to the bed and fell down onto the mattress; pulling the now-cold duvet over her shivering body, she buried her head in Gruber's pillow once again. She tried not to cry, allowing his scent to engulf her as it had before; and before long she began to feel drowsy. Barely had she begun to fall asleep when she heard the turning of the door handle she had set back in its' proper place not fifteen minutes ago – there was a click followed by a creak as the door was pushed open from the other side.

Helga lifted her head from the pillow and turned to look at the source of the noise, where she found before her a most magnificent sight. There stood Gruber, in his fitness attire; tight fitting, it showed off his modest muscular frame very nicely, and both the clothes and his forehead were glistening with sweat. He tilted his head ever so slightly and flashed her a smile.

"Good morning, Helga. I trust you slept well?"

Helga sat up and rested against the headboard, returning the smile to him. "I slept perfectly, thank you. How was your run?"

"Ah, yes! Do excuse me – I go at 6 o'clock every morning you see, but you were still asleep, and…" he chuckled nervously and swept his wet hair back off his forehead. "It went very well, actually; I overtook my personal best."

"Oh, Hubert! That's wonderful!" Helga replied. "I am so glad! And do not worry about not waking me – it was lovely to sleep in, for once." She smiled at him. "I should probably take my leave, however… I need to get back to my quarters to bath and to change; and I do not want to be late for my duties."

Gruber came towards her and sat beside her, on the edge of the bed. Nodding, he answered. "That is understandable, and I would not want to keep you from them either… however, if I may request one thing; would you be able to stay for another half an hour? I cannot do my press-ups at the moment, what with my arm… but I still must take a quick bath, and I would very much like to speak to you before you leave." He looked up at her with a questioning gaze.

Helga nodded. "Of course, Hubert. I shall get dressed while I wait." She smiled at him.

He returned the gesture. "Oh, thank you, Helga! I shall be as quick as I can!" He jumped up and hurried around to the side of his tin bath, where he stretched his good arm into the air and slowly began to pull his shirt over his head, followed by taking down his fitness trousers. Helga allowed herself to admire the ripple of his muscles and the strength that showed in his thighs for the briefest of moments, before shaking herself out of her stupor and gathering her clothes up from around the room. Blushing, she began to dress herself.

* * *

Before she knew it, Helga was seated beside a freshly uniformed Gruber on the plush couch in the centre of the room. Smiling, she took his hand in her own, and looked into his eyes. "So, Hubert… what was it that you wanted to speak to me about?"

Gruber sighed and squeezed his eyes shut, accompanying this with a squeeze to her hand. "My dear Helga, there is no easy way of saying this, but… last night should not have happened. It cannot happen again."

Helga felt her heart stop. "What do you mean…? Did you not enjoy it? I know… I did…"

Gruber lowered his head in shame. "It just cannot. It is just that… you are aware of my leanings; I have not been with a woman in years. You have a duty to Herr Flick also… you are with him, are you not?"

Helga stiffened, and felt she could not suppress the rage that was brewing inside her. "I do not care about Herr Flick! He is a cold, unfeeling monster! I wish to have nothing to do with him any longer – if he were not a member of the Gestapo-"

"But you see Helga, he is!" Gruber retorted. "He could have anything done to you – he could have you put in a prisoner of war camp, he could have you shot… I am not risking your safety, not for anything!"

"Not for this?!" Helga cried. "I thought this meant something. I would risk it all in a heartbeat… Hubert, I think I am falling for you. Does that not mean anything to you?"

Gruber sighed. "And I you, Helga. I cannot, however… I am scared. I am scared of these strange emotions I am feeling, and I am scared for you. I do not want you to get hurt."

Helga took her other hand and covered their intertwined fingers with it, grasping them tight. "Please Hubert, listen to me… I am also scared, but I do not want to give this up! I care for you more than I ever thought I would, and more than you could ever know. Please, I beg of you, do not throw this away!"

Gruber looked back down at the floor and shook his head. "I am truly sorry, Helga."

Helga felt the anger and dismay overcome her; fuming, she dropped his hand from her own and sprung up from the couch. "If that is what this means to you, then so be it!" She could not stop the tears falling from her eyes; her chest wracked with sobs, she strode towards the door.

"Helga, wait!" Gruber called. She could sense the pleading tone of his voice.

Still overcome with emotion, Helga whipped round to face him. "What is it?"

"Please, Helga… I care about you. I was not lying when I said I think I am falling for you. I do not want to lose you completely… I want to be your friend. What should we do about your dance lessons?"

Helga paused for a moment, then replied in a softened tone of voice. "7pm tonight. The usual place."

Sobbing, she lifted her head and, maintaining what very little dignity she felt she had left, turned and strode from the room.


End file.
